The monster with feelings
by Skymin
Summary: Whitney Miller decides to go to the Camp Crystal Lake one more time. Hoping to forget about the demons from the past and to confront her fears. She starts her journey with a monster behind her back and ends with something else. Oneshot.


**I don't own Friday the 13th series nor the characters.**

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**The monster with feelings.**

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The images of pure terror would haunt her eyes whenever she closed them or not. She would often hallucinate about a man in a hockey mask, strangling her or her friends to death. The yelling face of her boyfriend would ring in her ears mercilessly as if calling her from beneath, dragging her under. Sometimes she would wake up screaming for help in the middle of the night. A year had passed since the faithful events at the Camp Crystal Lake. Something Whitney Miller will never forget.

The woman swallowed hard and closed her eyes for a few seconds. She was in the car on her way to the camp. Figuring out, she had to pay respect to all of her friends in some way. She hoped that confronting this place once and for all, would calm her nerves and cease the hallucinations. She didn't utter a word to Clay about that. Knowing him, he would have been against that idea. Anyone else would've been. Even with the end of reports of missing people around the lake, this place was no good.

Whitney scanned the road signs and followed them when she took the right path. Finding a seemingly safe spot to park a car, she turned off the engine and cautiously stepped out. As soon as she did that, a fresh breeze almost slapped her across the face. She wasn't sure how, but this wood had its own peculiar smell. One that she couldn't escape. She sighed, pocketed her keys and put the backpack on. The redhead pondered for a while, thinking of a pattern to visit all of the special places. Ultimately she decided to start from the very beginning.

Whitney slowly went to the spot where she and her friends had decided to spend the night. It was perfectly clean with no traces of human interference or whatsoever. She was surprised how the nature had dealt with the passage of time, getting rid of the sad memories that donned this place. The woman crouched and carefully fished out four prayer candles from her backpack and lined them up where she believed the fireplace was used to be.

She lit them and stood up. Whitney promised to herself that she wouldn't cry, yet it was above her intentions and plans. She heard Mike's reassuring voice calling out for her, Wade's nerdy comments, Richie's playful taunts and Amanda's laugh. They would never leave her head. Sniffing aloud she quickly brought one of her hands to her face in attempt of rubbing the gathering tears away. Oh how she wanted them to be alive. How she wanted to fall asleep in Mike's arms and to wake up knowing he was there. As the reality sunk it, Whitney has wiped out most of the humidity from her face. Shaking herself off, she went in the direction of the private camping houses.

She had no trouble finding Trent's father abandoned wooden cabin. It stood there as if nothing really happened, as if someone was to come here any moment and spark the light of life inside. But it was all empty. The wind blew through the opened windows and sang to her, that she was the only person in here. Whitney didn't know the people that Clay had met on his mission. She only briefly met Jenna but never exchanged words with her. But given the fact how they met, it was perfectly understandable.

The redhead placed one, big votive candle near the entrance and slowly lit it. She hoped it would give the poor souls a little peace and she prayed that they were in a better place, free of all the pain and terror.

Standing up she brushed few of her ginger locks away when the wind blew harder. She couldn't believe it was that windy in the middle of the forest. At the same time she remembered it was the same place that spared a life of the drowning child. Was it that hard to accept it? Wasting no time she made her way into the last spot on her journey – the giant lake.

It was as crystal as ever. Whitney felt that this name suited this place like no other. It was a wonderful nook for the kids and adults to enjoy. The water was clear and the plants around gave out the feel of bathing in a pure nature. If only the murderers had never appeared.

The woman carefully walked over the dock and stood at the very end of it, exactly the same spot where the Miller siblings' nightmare ended. She didn't dare to crouch down and take a peek into the crystal abyss, being afraid that the abyss might indeed stare back into her. Standing there she swallowed hard upon the memory of the first dream she had after waking up. Where Jason jumped from beneath and pulled her back into the water. It felt so real, she still had chills running down her spine whenever she thought about it.

She abruptly turned around. She believed she heard something in the woods.

'It's probably a wild deer. Calm down Whitney.', she whispered to herself, angry at her own mind trying to trick her.

Then she heard another rustle and this time she saw someone staring at her. When she gasped, there was nobody in there. Her heart started to pump furiously and she started to look around frantically. It really wasn't a good moment for her mind to be playing tricks at her.

'Jason?', Whitney breathed bemusedly and took the last glance behind her.

She sighed aloud and turned away from the forest. She better get going or else she'd snap sooner than she expected. Before that, she found the last candle and placed it on the edge of the wooden dock. As she crouched she nibbled on her lower lip and stared blankly at the untainted knot.

After everything she had witnessed in this place, she was about to lit a candle for non else than Jason Voorhees. _The monster_ who killed all of her friends, threatened Clay's life and held her captivated like a wild animal for over six weeks. _The monster_ who destroyed her life. _The monster_ who never directly hurt her, but his hands were tainted with lives of many.

During her stay at the hospital, Whitney heard a little more about Jason. A mentally challenged child with deformities that only his mother could love, a victim of society. The society rejected him, both the peers and adults who were supposed to watch over him. When she was slowly recovering in bed and by Clay's side, she'd often think about him. How he must've felt all this time and how painful it was for him to lost his mother. Whitney knew that pain, she wasn't there when her mother died but she was watching her slow death for enough of time.

She never considered herself lucky but she had her brother who maybe wasn't there whenever she needed him, but was there in the worst moments of her life. Jason was alone. His only family was the lake and trees that almost took his life away. She wondered if the terror of not knowing what tomorrow will bring and the starvation of any human contact had accompanied the man during his life. Whitney had tasted it for the six long weeks and she couldn't even imagine what it'd feel like to grow up with it. She almost found it funny, that she started to care about him, after they ended up his life. She lived with him and she didn't even try to understand him.

A very small part of Whitney's heart pitied the man and almost sympathized with him. She hated herself for that. She saw Jason killing her friends in twisted ways, right before her eyes. She saw the corpses of many other lives he had taken before. And yet she couldn't shake off his piercing blue eye and a face that was calling his mother for help. She wished she didn't have to kill him. At least not like that.

Swallowing hard, she sniffed aloud and rubbed her face against her sleeve. It was the high time to lit the candle for him and go back home. She had three hours to drive back home and she didn't want Clay to be worried about her. As she lit it with a matchstick, she slowly stood up and put the backpack on.

'Rest in peace Jason.', she quietly mustered and observed the dancing flame.

When she turned around, her heart skipped a beat again. Before her stood the man from whom she wanted to stay away the most. She blinked furiously, hoping it was still a part of her hallucinations. The image of him was sharp and vivid. He stared at her with his unblinking eyes, barely visible from the corners of his mask holes. His clothes remained unchanged. Tattered and worn out, showing that he little cared about them, as long as they covered up his misshapen body well. Only his t-shirt appeared to be new. Whitney guessed he wasn't fond of wearing something that was tainted with his blood.

As he took a slow step forward, she was simply frozen in place. She was foolish enough to assume, that he was dead. She willingly walked into his territory again. She knew that once you step in there, there's no turning back. You're not returning home alive. Whitney and her brother were lucky enough to see another day outside the Camp Crystal Lake woods. They've made it, because they thought they killed him. So chances for her to get out of there at the moment were very slim.

Jason nonchalantly closed the distance between her as if knowing she had no place to run. Whitney trembled and watched him approach her. Her mind was full of the possible ideas how she dies from his hands. She not only dared to see him again, she fooled him, pretending to be his mother and delivered the fatal blow. If she died quick, it'd be the best case scenario. She silently started praying with closed eyes, mentally preparing for the reunion with her mother.

When he was close enough, Voorhees grabbed her roughly by her neck. To his surprise she didn't scream like he was accustomed to. A soft moan escaped her lips, showing no signs of horror in her voice. He tilted his head quizzically and pressed his darkened nails deeper into her flesh. She said nothing as if accepting her death. Jason huffed and shook her furiously, swaying her body into a different angle.

Whitney gagged and slowly opened her eyes to look at his face. Her mind was slowly going blank due her brain dying from the lack of the oxygen. Despite that, she kept eyeing him with the same unchanging peacefulness. Because he put himself in motion when he dragged her to the side, she heard a very small noise of a clashing metal. She noticed he was wearing the locket that contained the picture of his beloved mother. The same one which he forced her to wear and the same one she threw in the water during the burial.

'I'm glad…', she whispered in a small voice, 'You've found it.'

Jason's one good eye quivered and he decided to loosen up the grip, enough for her to talk further.

'The locket. It was important for you.', the redhead quietly explained and gently reached her hands to brush against the necklace on his torso.

His whole body tensed upon feeling her touch and soon after he abruptly tossed her on the deck. She hissed in pain and rolled on her back, albeit sloppily due to the backpack behind. Recovering from the impact, she slowly opened her eyes and looked at the killer who was towering over her.

As she sat up and started backing off, still keeping the eye contact, she quietly muttered, 'Jason?'

The man took no time and swiftly drew machete from the strap on his leg and pointed it in her direction. Her pupils widened in horror and she tried to catch her breath, not understanding his intentions. She searched for answer in his face but she couldn't read him. He seemed angry and yet he didn't finish her off. And he had plenty of chances to do so. Whitney stood up on shaky legs while still looking at him. She slowly brought one hand and closed it on her chest, giving him one of the looks, asking him for more clues.

Before she managed to say his name again, Jason slashed the air between them as if gesticulating her to not come any closer. He was keeping the deadly weapon down and she noticed how frantically he was gripping on it. She looked into his visible eye for the last time and she found a strange tide of emotion taking over her. For the first time, the woman saw hurt flickered into his blue, presumably, unfeeling eye. It was a reason enough for her to get into her feet and start running.

She didn't dare to look back to check if he was after her in a sick twisted hide-and-seek game. If she did, she'd see Jason stabbing one of the wooden boards furiously until he carved a huge hole into it.

The women breathed harshly as she was sprinting through the woods, repeating only one thing in her head.

**'I'm sorry.'**

When Whitney made her way into the parked car, she nervously found the keys, tossed the backpack into the passenger's seat, got inside and started the engine. She didn't look back. She drove for a bit and stopped the vehicle at the first parking lot she noticed. She made a nest out of her arms and lied herself on the driving wheel. This time, she couldn't fight her tears off. Sobbing she stared blankly through the front window wondering, why she couldn't hate him completely. Why he didn't kill her. She wasn't trying to be his mother. This time, she was sure he'd do that. She didn't understand. She wished he had, because it'd be easier for her to accept him as a psychopathic killer. _A monster_. But _monsters_ don't have feelings inside them. _The monsters_ she knew don't let people live.

Whitney sobbed viciously as her whole body trembled. She couldn't call him _a monster_. She couldn't remember him as one and try forget about him. She'd have to live, knowing that Jason Voorhees was _a human being_. A very damaged one. Just like her.


End file.
